


The Laundress

by Ylith



Category: Lawless (2012)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, M/M, Other, Trans Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2541560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/Ylith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man at the station attacks Evelyn after discovering her secret.  Forrest rescues her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Laundress

**Author's Note:**

> For those not familiar, Evelyn is a comedic drag character Joseph Gordon Levitt played on SNL. She's treated here as a trans woman living in the 1930's.

The few motorcars parked outside the Bondurant’s gas station were a poor representation for the packed speakeasy going on inside, though truth be told that was how Forrest preferred it. The law kept their distance from him for the most part, but they liked his shine far too much to try and put him out of business. Nevertheless, he still preferred to keep things somewhat simple when they were at his own door. 

Forrest could hear Howard crowing from across the room. His brother had been on the stump for days, his eyes bloodshot and red rimmed but his presence still amiable enough to keep things lively. Forrest preferred to hang back, keep an eye on things and make sure nothing got too rowdy. He kept back in the shadows, leaning against the stair rail with his hands thrust deep in the pockets of his cardigan, thick fingers playing over the cool ridges of his trusty brass knuckles. 

A commotion across the room caught his eye, and Forrest perked up when he saw little Evelyn Temple, the only laundress in the county who could get blood stains out of just about anything. She lived on her own on the edge of town, keeping to herself and minding her own business, which the Bondurant boys all could certainly appreciate. She usually dropped their cleaned linens early in the day, and never was one to join in on any of the county “festivities” such as their current gathering. At present, she was boxed in by the counter, eyes downcast as a sweaty red-faced man spoke to her. She flinched away when he raised a hand to brush back an errant curl that had escaped the duster holding her hair up. 

Forrest watched a moment longer, noting the trepidation in her eyes and the nervous shrug of her shoulders. She was a quiet thing, something which didn’t bother Forrest, as he himself was a man of few words, but which did seem to agitate her would-be suitor, if his increasingly animated hand gestures were any indication. He pushed off the staircase and ambled forward, hands still in his pockets. 

Evelyn looked up when he approached, cheeks flushed almost as dark as her russet dress. She hugged her bundle even tighter, shying away as the man took her by the arm to pull her into the room. The man didn’t notice Forrest’s presence until he cleared his throat with a loud grunt, his eyes glassy when they finally turned to meet his own. 

“Go about your business,” Forrest said, brows stern and furrowed. 

The man didn’t seem to understand, as he kept his hand on Evelyn’s arm. “Just having a conversation with this little lady,” the man said. “No problem here.”

Forrest looked to Evelyn now and saw the discomfort in her eyes, the way she implored him to help her. He turned back to the man, shaking his head with a shrug. “She don’t want to conversate with you. Go on.” He fingered his brass knuckles in his pocket, but he should have known he wouldn’t need them. Forrest Bondurant was known as a man who didn’t ask twice, and he was pleased when the man finally released her. 

Evelyn breathed a sigh of relief, carefully eyeing the man until he was a safe distance away. “Thank you,” she said quietly in her smoky voice, a grateful but sad smile spreading across her lips. “Meant to come by earlier, but my other deliveries took longer-”

Forrest nodded, ducking his head as he guided her towards the back of the station. “No trouble,” he said. “Crowd’s a bit too rough for the likes of you tonight.”

She flushed, lip caught between her teeth as she shifted the bundle in her arms. Forrest remembered his manners and took it from her, setting it carefully on a table so as not to spoil her work just yet. She stood awkwardly without it, arms crossing and shoulders slumped as he dug in his pocket for money to pay her. She shook her head when he extended the money as it was far more than their usual agreed upon amount, but Forrest hadn’t liked seeing her in such a compromised position and wanted to make it up to her. 

“Take it,” he grumbled, practically pushing it into her hand, pleased when she finally pocketed it. 

A loud crash came from the other room, followed by a holler from Howard, and high pitched laughter from Jack, never a good combination. He grunted with displeasure, nodding a quick farewell to Evelyn before heading back into the other room to deal with the commotion. When he found it had been nothing more than Howard falling drunkenly off a barstool, he turned back to find her again, but Evelyn was gone. 

After giving Howard a stern word and making Jack swear on their mother that he wouldn’t give their brother another jar, Forrest went to go put the bundle of washing safely away upstairs. He stared at it on the table, knowing even before lifting it that their linens would have a subtle hint of rosemary and lavender from the sprigs Evelyn wrapped in them. He looked up when Jack rushed in, his younger brother freezing when he saw him. 

“Whatcha doin’, Forrest?” 

Forrest ignored him. “What you need?”

Jack pointed back towards the bustling station. “Shine’s getting low, Howard sent me to get another care.”

Forrest glowered, handing the bundle to Jack. “I’ll get it, you go put these away. Tell Howard to have some goddam water in him ‘fore he gets to trouble.” He watched Jack spring off to do his bidding before heading out the back to the henhouse where they stored their extra moonshine. He was so caught up grumbling to himself about Howard and his foolish ass that he didn’t hear anything until an anguished cry cut through the cool night, just loud enough to be heard over the commotion inside. 

He turned, thinking maybe the shine had gotten to him too until he heard a loud slap and another cry. Forrest reached into his pocket, fingers slipping easily into the familiar hold of his knuckle dusters. He stalked forwards with lumbering footsteps, ready for trouble but still not prepared for the sight before him. 

The man from inside must have followed Evelyn out after she’d left because there he was, on his knees in the dirt crudely positioned behind a sobbing Evelyn. Her pretty dress was ripped down the front, pulled down past her shoulders and her skirts hiked up in the back. Her duster was gone and he had a hand fisted cruelly in her curls, forcing her face down into the dirt, his other working at his belt. He shouted at her to be still, and she gave a strangled cry as he dragged her back up by her hair and took her by the throat, voice hateful as he hissed “Shut up and take what’s coming, freak…”

“Hey!” Forrest barked, continuing towards them. “Get the hell off her.”

Her assailant glanced around, his eyes wild with fury. “Her?” he snapped, the laugh which followed dark with rage. He stood, hauling Evelyn to her feet with him, his hand still wrapped around her throat. Her tears left wet tracks through the dirt on her cheeks, blood smeared across the side of her mouth where the man must have hit her. Her eyes were heavy with despair and glassy with humiliation, lips trembling as she realized Forrest could see her body through the tattered dress. 

Forrest’s jaw clenched in anger, fingers tightening around the knuckle dusters though he knew better than to act rashly while the other man held her by the throat. He tried not to look down at where her dress was torn open, the mangled fabric and ripped brassiere exposing an unnaturally flat chest. Instead he focused his attention on the bastard holding her, knowing one look into those frightened eyes and he’d lose all that remained of his restraint. “What you think you’re doin’?” he asked, voice gravelly.

The man gaped at him in disbelief before shaking Evelyn, the hand not at her throat keeping her arms still. “This little faggot tricked me,” he ground out between his teeth, shaking Evelyn hard until she cried out. “Had to teach the pervert a lesson...if it wants to be a bitch I’ll make it a bitch.”

Forrest’s brows narrowed, not quite sure what the guy was getting at and frankly not caring. “You leave her be, now.”

His words only made the man more angry, and he snarled as he released her arms to reach down and drag up her skirts. 

“No!” Evelyn screamed, trying to twist out of the cruel hands with anguished sobs as he hiked the hem of her skirt up to her navel, revealing torn stockings and a boyish cock and balls nestled in a thatch of dark hair. Fat tears fell down her cheeks as the man jerked her head back by her hair, revealing a subtle but still present Adam’s Apple. 

“Aint no woman here,” he jeered, spitting the cruel words into her ear. “The freak’s a boy.”

Evelyn’s eyes were sealed tight with shame now, bitter cries wrenched from her throat as Forrest looked at her and really saw her for who and what she was. 

Forrest couldn’t even hear the rest of the hateful diatribe as he lumbered forward, the knucks solid on his fingers as he raised a fist and let it fly at the man, relishing the satisfying give as it connected with his throat. 

The assailant crumpled, Evelyn tossed to the side as he struggled to breathe through his shattered windpipe. Forrest barely registered any of it as he pulled his fist back again and slammed it down on the man’s cheek, the metal crushing teeth and bone. He felt warm blood spray back on him when he connected with the man’s nose, and finally came to his senses enough to realize Evelyn was screaming in terror and someone was pulling him back.

It was Howard, his older brother letting loose a string of “Jesus Mary and all the fucking saints…” when he saw the sunken hole that was the remains of the man’s face. He released Forrest and looked over at Evelyn’s shaking form, not bothering to ask what had happened.

Forrest grunted in approval of the mess of a man beneath him before waving his brother away. “Nothing to see here,” he said. “Just got what was coming to him.” 

Howard’s brows rose, but he nodded and with a “sure thing, Forrest,” headed back inside, ushering the few onlookers hovering by the door to go back in as well. Forrest watched him leave before finally taking a deep breath and turning to look at Evelyn.

She had blood speckled across her face and bared shoulder, her hands clutching desperately at her torn clothes in an effort to cover herself. She was trembling violently, crying to herself as looked away from the mangled body. When Forrest took a step towards her she cowered away from him, covering her eyes as she sobbed and raised a shaky hand as she begged him to stop. “Please,” she said, word choked with her cries. “I’m sorry, please…”

Forrest quickly wiped his knucks on a hanky and pocketed them before shrugging off his cardigan. Evelyn shied away from him when he knelt beside her, eyes wide with fear until he extended the sweater to her. She eyed it carefully, still shaking as her brows rounded in confusion. Forrest nodded towards it, leaning in closer until she finally accepted it with unsteady fingers. 

As she drew it up her arms, Forrest couldn’t help but take in her exposed chest. The skin was smooth and fine as any woman’s, but the planes of it and small dark nipples decidedly male. He quickly averted his gaze though as she pulled the sweater up about her shoulders, guilt creeping through him. 

“I thought,” Evelyn began, voice barely above a whisper. “I thought if I let him h-have me,” her voice was as unsteady as her hand. “That he wouldn’t tell...I thought he wouldn’t tell so I was going to let him.” Her fingers clench around the sweater, clutching it against her throat. “Please don’t hurt me….p-please.” Her eyes were so big as she looked up at him, so afraid and desperate. A fresh tear rolled heavily down her cheek, smearing the grime there. 

Forrest shook his head, clearing his throat. “You got nothing to fear from me,” he mumbled, not wanting to look at her while she begged him with those sad pitiful eyes. Not wanting to see her so afraid of him. 

She bowed her head, almost as though in prayer. “No one else knows...I have no one, nowhere else to go-”

“Aint my business to tell,” Forrest said, finally looking back down at her. “You hurt?”

Evelyn shook her head emphatically, though Forrest figured she wouldn’t tell him if she were. “Get on up then,” he said. “I’ll walk you home.”

Forrest extended a hand, and though she shied away at first on reflex, when she realized he had no intentions to grab at her she accepted and let the man help her to her feet. She didn’t bother to dust herself off, merely kept a firm grip on the cardigan to keep it closed. Forrest considered helping her, but decided she was not likely ready to be touched just yet. He walked beside her, hands in his pockets as he listened to her calm herself until her soft sobs subsided into the occasional sniffle. 

They walked in silence for a while, and while Forrest could occasionally feel Evelyn’s eyes on him, she didn’t say anything for quite a stretch. Finally though, she spoke, that smoky voice still so unsure and quiet. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me around anymore, now that…” she swallowed. “Now that you know.”

Forrest groaned as he thought of a suitable response. “Washing still needs to get done,” he finally said with a shrug. 

There was another pause before Evelyn spoke again, her tears betrayed by the tremble in her voice. “You were always so kind to me, more so than anyone ever…” She stopped then, and they continued in silence for a while longer until she paused in her tracks, eyes downcast with shame. When she spoke, her voice was so small Forrest had to strain to hear her. 

“I’m not a pervert,” Evelyn insisted. “I didn’t-I never wanted to be like this...I tried to be a boy but I-”

Forrest raised a hand to silence her, shaking his head when she nervously glanced up at him. He led her forward again with a hand to the small of her back, and this time she didn’t flinch. They continued the rest of the way in silence, the hum of nightlife around them noise enough to keep them occupied. When they got to her house, Forrest waited at the bottom of the stairs, gesturing for her to go ahead. 

She took a step, then froze, turning back to him. Her lip was caught between her teeth, eyes full of trepidation and yearning. “Thank you...for everything,” she said. “For saving me, for-for keeping my secret-”

“It’s nothing,” he said. 

Evelyn shook her head, “it’s not.” She went to take the cardigan off but he stopped her with a gentle hand, nodding that she keep it. Again, she looked so desperately sad, and Forrest wanted to touch her, wanted to hold her but was too unsure of himself to do so. He could beat a man’s face in, but offering comfort was something foreign. Even Howard was better at it than he was, though he could guess his brother wouldn’t readily offer such services in this circumstance. Jack and Howard had never seen Evelyn like he had, even before the events of that night. 

“I wish I could be real for you,” she said, pain visceral in her eyes. 

Forrest rested a hand atop hers, her skin smooth and warm against him. “Goodnight, Miss Evelyn,” he said. 

Her smile was watery, but when she said goodnight, her eyes held no more shame. 

 

The End


End file.
